Feather Off a Phoenix
by silvr-mystic
Summary: 5th year at Hogwarts brings a bit more trouble than expected to Harry, and with Snape’s hair as greasy as ever, anything can happen! The slash? I’ll decide later, but if you know me…. Rated PG-13 for language (that's later), R/R!


**A/N:** This is my first time writing a fan fiction.  If it sux, I'm REALLY sorry!

**Disclaimer:**  Do you really think I own Harry Potter & Co.?  Wow, you do?  Really?  Really, you do?  What!  You don't?  Well you are right, I don't own Harry Potter or anybody else.  *sniffs* 

**Dedicated: **To Razz (Razzberry)!  And get out Chapter 3!  We've been planning it since January!

**Summary: **5th year at Hogwarts brings a bit more trouble than expected to Harry, and with Snape's hair as greasy as ever, anything can happen!  The slash?  I'll decide later, but if you know me….

Ordinary Day 

Just a day,  
Just an ordinary day.  
Just tryin' to get by.  
Just a boy,  
Just an ordinary boy.  
But he was looking to the sky.  
And as he asked if I would come along  
I started to realize-  
That everyday you find   
Just what he's looking for,  
Like a shooting star he shines.  
  
He said take my hand,  
Live while you can  
Don't you see your dreams right in the palm of your hand?  
  
And as he spoke, he spoke ordinary words  
Although they did not feel  
For I felt what I had not felt before  
You'd swear those words could heal.  
And as I looked up into those eyes  
His vision borrows mine.  
And to know he's no stranger,  
For I feel I've held him for all of time.  
  
And he said take my hand,  
Live while you can  
Don't you see your dreams right in the palm of your hand  
in the pal of your hand.  
  
Please come with me,  
See what I see.  
Touch the stars for time will not flee.  
Time will not flee.  
And you must be  
  
Just a dream, just an ordinary dream.  
As I wake in bed  
And the boy, that boy, that ordinary boy.  
Or was it all in my head?  
Did he asked if I would come along  
It all seemed so real.  
But as I looked to the door,  
I saw that boy standing there with a deal.  
  
And he said he my take my hand,  
Live while you can,  
Don't you see your dreams right in the palm of your hand  
right in the palm of your hand,  
right in the palm of your hand.  
  
Just a day, just an ordinary day  
Jus' tryin' to get by.  
  
Just a boy,   
Just an ordinary boy.  
But he was looking to the sky.

-Vanessa Carlton, _Be Not Nobody_

~*~

One of the things Harry Potter wondered about very much was, "Why did I have to get stuck with _them_, of all the 7 billion people in the world?"  Them, of course, were the Dursleys, Harry's only living relatives.  This summer was slightly better than previous ones, but it was still, much to his annoyance, _boring_.  He would give his Firebolt to have _just_ one thing to make everything less boring.  But just as unfortunate, he also had much homework.

     You see, Harry Potter was very abnormal, but in a special-abnormal sort of way.  Harry wasn't an ordinary 14, but almost 15-year-old teen, but a 14,but almost 15-year-old _wizard_.  And even for wizard circumstances, he was different.  He was the only person to ever live after the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra, was put on him.  Even more remarkable, he was the one that had defeated Lord Voldemort not once, not twice, but _four_ times.  

     But even though he was the Hero of the Wizarding World, he was stuck with the Dursleys.  He, of course, had a godfather, Sirius Black, but he was a wrongly accused murderer, and on the run, so that wasn't much fun at all.  The only thing that could help was getting Harry out of a bad situation with his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or Cousin Dudley.  And usually _they_ ignored him.

The only comfort he got was from the letters that Sirius and his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sent.  This year, he had gotten an assortment of presents from all his friends for his birthday, July 31.  From his godfather, a beautifully carved wand case, where once he put his wand in it, nobody would be able to steal it or the box, therefore ensuring that his wand would not be stolen like it had been at the last World Cup.  From Ron, he had received, unsurprisingly, a fake wand and a bag full of Canary Creams and Ton-Tongue Toffees, obviously for him to try to feed to Dudley.  From Hermione, it was neither a book nor anything to do with Quidditch, but a small assortment of "Dark Detectors", much like the ones Barty Crouch Jr. had shown him last year.  He supposed she thought it would maybe give him a warning, but his nightmares were warning enough, he didn't really want to watch Voldemort's every move, his own experiences had been enough, but to here even more screams of pain and anguish were almost too much.  And lastly, from Hagrid, none of his garish cooking, but a great sword.  But upon looking closer, he realized that it was a giant's knife, much too heavy for the likes of _him_.

Looking at his presents, he felt happy, knowing he was loved, but sad too, because those people who loved him could not be with him.  But, he supposed, it could be worse.  I could have nobody live me, with no presents or anything at all.  As he looked at the clock on his bedside, he realized it was 2 o'clock in the morning, and then glancing at the mirror, which was next to the closet, he smiled, wondering what his friends would think at his change of appearance.  He was no longer scrawny, but a little bit under 6 feet.  His hair, wild as ever, had calmed down just a fraction, but acted up whenever it took up the liking.  His mother's beautiful and dazzling green eyes took up the spotlight, so when you looked in them, you saw joy and emotion, very much different than his life in actuality.  

So after about another 6 or 7 hours of sleep, he went downstairs to breakfast.  As usual, the Dursleys ignored him, and went back to their breakfasts, which, since Dudley was still on a diet, was a handful of prunes and water, and like before, Harry's share was a considerable amount smaller than Dudley's.  But, like last year, he had a supply of birthday cakes, and pies from Mrs. Weasley, who was, undoubtedly one of the best cooks.  And so, he finished off his meal of insignificant size and hopped back upstairs to enjoy one of Mrs. Weasley's excellent chicken pies.  

As he was starting on his second piece, an owl flew in, neither Hogwarts, Pig, nor Hedwig, even though the owl was a snowy owl, Hedwig was asleep in her cage, and held out his leg, where there was a letter and a package tied to it.  After Harry untied the letter, the mysterious owl left as quickly as it came.  

Unrolling the white parchment, he saw the jet-black ink glistening brightly, as though it had just been in the bottle.  And as he read the words, his face became shocked, and then, like his eyes, full of joy.  For the letter had come from, not Ron or Hermione, not anyone he knew, but it had given him great joy.  

But as he fell asleep that night, he suddenly realized that his good fortune could just be lie, that the letter could be from Lord Voldemort, his sworn enemy, or that someone was trying to make him look stupid.  Oh well, he thought, it'll just have to wait until tomorrow.

~*~

Did you really think I was going to tell you what the letter said or who wrote it?  Well, you probably don't know me very well then.  *sighs*  Next chapter: I Would Die In Ecstasy.  And if enough people review, I might let out what was in that letter _and_ who wrote it in Chapter 2.  *hint, hint, wink, wink*

thistle; Thystle n Thyme (AIM) 


End file.
